


and the sun will rise tomorrow

by Knightblazer



Category: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Angst, Gen, Pre-Canon, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-02
Updated: 2012-05-02
Packaged: 2017-11-04 17:30:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knightblazer/pseuds/Knightblazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's tired, but there's always a tomorrow no matter what. (Pre-game, spoilers for Yomiel's identity.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	and the sun will rise tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written on 28th January 2011. As mentioned above, this fic is pre-game, and talks about Yomiel's identity. If you don't know him, then this fic is not for you (yet). Main idea of this fic is Inspired greatly by [this heartbreaking comic](http://kinokokaihatsu.xii.jp/gallery/ghost/box/gt_comic1.html) ;w;

It was painful, really, having to live a life like this.

By now Yomiel’s already lost count of how many times he’s supposed to have died, to have just stayed dead six feet under and let himself cross the line into the other world. But no, he’s still alive—living though what was simply a twisted, cruel mockery of life. His body is forever hanging between that thin line of life and death, and himself stuck in limbo, unable to go back or to even move on. He’s stuck in this life that wasn’t even a life, this existence that did nothing but twist him inside more and more.

He’s sick and tired of this, so tired that words can’t even begin to describe how he feels about this life he’s living now; he wants it all to stop, he wants _himself_ to stop, but yet again and again fate mocks him and leaves him forever stuck in this in-between world, alive but not living, dead but not gone. He can’t even say that he’s alive when all he wants to do is to curl up and disappear and simply fade away, but he can’t even do that.

It’s painful. It’s excruciating.

It’s unbearable, having to live like this.

Sure, Yomiel knew that he could get himself all the money and jewels and just about everything in the world now and he could get off all off his wrongdoings scot-free (because he _is_ dead after all), but that could never satisfy the gaping hole that was in his soul now—the hole that was there the moment that meteorite fragment pierced right through him. As much as it might have been his salvation back then, at the same time it was also a curse; a terrible and horrible curse that Yomiel wanted gone so badly.

The money bags scattered around the hotel floor he was sitting on didn’t catch his interest at all—not as much as the gun that was in his hands now. He stole it from a cop earlier during his heist, though he hadn’t used it; a check showed that there were still bullets loaded in it… possibly enough to blast out the Temsik fragment inside him if he wanted to.

The Temsik fragment. The cause of this whole mess, the reason why he was even here now. If he blew it… would that finally send him to peace? Could he finally leave this world and go to where she was waiting for him? There was nothing left for him in this world already, after all—only despair and darkness and eternal loneliness.

Holding the gun properly in his hands, Yomiel turned the gun over so that the barrel was facing him, and he placed it over his chest—over the spot where the Temsik fragment was buried within him. All he needed to do was to pull the trigger. Pull the trigger and shoot out the meteorite fragment, and it would all be over. He could finally get that peace he had been wanting for so long. He could see her again. He wouldn’t be alone any more. He no longer needed to suffer though this eternal agony… all he needed to do was to pull the trigger—

—so why were his hands shaking?

 _All I need to do is to pull the trigger, and it’ll be over,_ the man told himself, _Just pull the trigger, and I won’t need to suffer anymore._ But even as he said that, Yomiel could feel his breath quickening, his subconscious betraying him. He was scared, he knew, scared of dying—that was why he never dared to do this, never thought about it and continued to suffer through all of this. But now… now, he just wanted nothing more than to fade away, to leave this painful world and content himself with peace.

Yomiel clenched his jaw, hands tightening their grip on the gun; he held his breath as the finger started to edge back, ready to pull the trigger—

—and then a meow broke through the silence, startling Yomiel enough to drop the gun in his hands. The firearm clattered onto the ground noisily, metal striking against faux marble. The man could still feel himself shaking as he stared at the fallen gun, not quite sure what to make of all of this now. Still, again… he was a coward; he couldn’t even bring himself to do what was necessary to get out of this agonizing life. 

The sensation of a small body rubbing against his thigh brought him out of his thoughts there and then, and Yomiel blinked to see a pair of yellow eyes glancing at him curiously. Another blink helped him made out the figure of his old friend in the dim lighting of the room from the nearby window. Yomiel looked up, glancing towards the window to see the setting sun—it seemed that evening was already coming… and he hadn’t turned on the lights just yet.

Sissel meowed once more, and the man glanced back at the feline which was still looking at him, silent for a moment before he moved a hand to rub idly scratch the back of the cat’s ears. Sissel mewled, moving closer now, and Yomiel only let a tired smile cross his face as the hand now gently stroked the other’s head and neck, quietly relishing the smooth silky fur that ran under his fingertips. Somehow, at least… he could still feel this, could still feel and appreciate the existence of his one and only friend. 

Reaching out with his other hand, Yomiel picked up the cat and hugged him, eyes closed as he felt the warmth and breath of his sole friend, the other’s tiny chest working against his own unmoving one. Sissel meowed again—quietly this time, as he felt a small tongue running against his cheek in an attempt of being comforting; as always, the feline was tuned to his feelings so easily. 

The man pulled away slightly after a few more moments, the smile still on his face as he looked at the feline in his arms. A pause, and when he spoke his voice was the same as always. “How about we go out for some dinner tonight for once, Sissel?”

The cat meowed in response, tail swishing. Yomiel felt his smile growing a bit wider at that, and he moved to get himself standing up with Sissel still in his hands. “Alright, maybe that pizza place down the corner we missed the other time has something for the both of us this time round. I’ll make sure you get some fish as well while we’re there.” 

Sissel replied with another meow, wriggling in the man’s hands after that so that he could return to the floor and trot to the door. Yomiel only made a mildly amused look at the actions of the cat, shaking his head ruefully before he followed the feline out of the door, making sure to close it behind him as he left. 

As the door closed with a quiet little _click_ , the gun continued to remain on the floor, its metal casing glinting as the last rays of sunlight vanished with the coming of the night.


End file.
